¨°¤§toreaze²¤°¨

¨°¤Blah blah blah blah blah blah, blah
¨° bliggitty, buck shots, fuck cops, no diggity... but see, ya dont, know, an abstrakt focus breed. While they pull ya down slow, me hopeless?? please.. i hold the..secret of life

¨°¤oh true indeed best believe i need the..

¨°¤§toreaze²¤°¨

11:48pm Sunday, November 02, 2003 The broken wing is what he chose. Distant thoughts of whether or not he should even mark his body for the body is beautiful. Until, true realization that the body is a car. just a physical piece of canvas or loose leaf to construct what beauty or truth he wanted to construct. to reveal the realness inside himself, whether he could penetrate both worlds, which he was doin g so nicely, but in a manner of smoothness not even james dean could win over on him... and in a manner that would tease the normal practicioner or philosopher. For he wasnt only full of his philosophy held only close to his heart in these days of times now, but also the action in which he had backed all his philospohy up with. In short, while he parades around believing in the magical trance and dance that has skipped across his puddle of shallowness.. as his writing is detered by creative forces or angels or demons depending on what rivit needed to be stroked gently... oh how far can their thoughts travel outward to distances unknown before he can wrap it all back into a single tale of how he finally discovered that his artistic artistry and articulate architecures could akwardly aquire apprehension thru all angles apprehending to senses abstrakt. Although it is quite interesting to feel the power of emotions grasped within a moment of time transferred into this computer monitor relayed back to my eyes telling my brain to see this. Objection, I want my emotional memorie to remain in my body, soul, and mind, hey hey hey where are you going! I thought I said.... as no rain pitters and patters on my window sill is should be. While, for once I dont hear an ambulance or police siren.. Well, shit, for once Im actually bewing constructive and appealing to my inner hunger, for which I must feed, the only reason I write this trash.. Thoughts scattered to leave the reader, not only drawn into a trance of wonderous imaginative painting within the everlasting, eternal walls of ones mind...?? Could it be? Could the one man, chasing all his hopes, in dreams, battling all his nightmares, and misconceptions, really take on a world completely unready for the fact of switching to a path that hits the same destination but seems, in its entirety, completely meaningless from the ouside in... ................................................... But, ohhh, from the inside out.. If only I could paint the vivid picture of snowflakes falling slowly and peacefully outside your favorite window to look how the world turns. But the fireplace full of exactly 3 logs with the third tilted over the middle where it should be laying, making the fireplace look like a field to lay on while you search the stars for casiopa. While your body sits still and serene waiting for serendipty to stumble so solemnly into your lap. You can feel the grace of fate touch your shoulder while you wait for your egg nog to be poured out of a pitcher into your specific goblet... you feel stuck dazing into the mysterious caverns of your mind. reaching for some sort of contact, some sort of approval to wander with your spirit... I approve it. Now, Go! Wander Away.

¨°¤§toreaze²¤°¨
11:48pm Sunday, November 02, 2003 The broken wing is what he chose. Distant thoughts of whether or not he should even mark his body for the body is beautiful. Until, true realization that the body is a car. just a physical piece of canvas or loose leaf to construct what beauty or truth he wanted to construct. to reveal the realness inside himself, whether he could penetrate both worlds, which he was doin g so nicely, but in a manner of smoothness not even james dean could win over on him... and in a manner that would tease the normal practicioner or philosopher. For he wasnt only full of his philosophy held only close to his heart in these days of times now, but also the action in which he had backed all his philospohy up with. In short, while he parades around believing in the magical trance and dance that has skipped across his puddle of shallowness.. as his writing is detered by creative forces or angels or demons depending on what rivit needed to be stroked gently... oh how far can their thoughts travel outward to distances unknown before he can wrap it all back into a single tale of how he finally discovered that his artistic artistry and articulate architecures could akwardly aquire apprehension thru all angles apprehending to senses abstrakt. Although it is quite interesting to feel the power of emotions grasped within a moment of time transferred into this computer monitor relayed back to my eyes telling my brain to see this. Objection, I want my emotional memorie to remain in my body, soul, and mind, hey hey hey where are you going! I thought I said.... as no rain pitters and patters on my window sill is should be. While, for once I dont hear an ambulance or police siren.. Well, shit, for once Im actually bewing constructive and appealing to my inner hunger, for which I must feed, the only reason I write this trash.. Thoughts scattered to leave the reader, not only drawn into a trance of wonderous imaginative painting within the everlasting, eternal walls of ones mind...?? Could it be? Could the one man, chasing all his hopes, in dreams, battling all his nightmares, and misconceptions, really take on a world completely unready for the fact of switching to a path that hits the same destination but seems, in its entirety, completely meaningless from the ouside in... ................................................... But, ohhh, from the inside out.. If only I could paint the vivid picture of snowflakes falling slowly and peacefully outside your favorite window to look how the world turns. But the fireplace full of exactly 3 logs with the third tilted over the middle where it should be laying, making the fireplace look like a field to lay on while you search the stars for casiopa. While your body sits still and serene waiting for serendipty to stumble so solemnly into your lap. You can feel the grace of fate touch your shoulder while you wait for your egg nog to be poured out of a pitcher into your specific goblet... you feel stuck dazing into the mysterious caverns of your mind. reaching for some sort of contact, some sort of approval to wander with your spirit... I approve it. Now, Go! Wander Away.

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